by T. M. Deans
“That’s good to know.”
I had used Besnard on several occasions since leaving the Company, after he had also quit working for them. He could be trusted, and had a lot more to lose than I did if he was indiscreet. Still it made me a little nervous that he knew I was still floating around.
I had to admit the thought of doing a contract was appealing, although, not for the money. Because I was feeling raspy and mad at myself, if he could find me somebody who defi nitely shouldn’t be on the planet it might be just the thing that I needed. I would think about it. If George had still been around, I definitely would’ve asked him. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be connected to Besnard. I wasn’t sure what he was into these days. But it was his style to stay semi legal, so I was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten reckless in his old age.
I better be careful. I was starting to talk myself into taking on a contract. I didn’t even know if I really had it in me. Not counting George’s funeral, last time I’d pull the trigger was at Sophia’s rescue. I was always practicing, but live targets were different, especially if they were shooting back.
Maybe George was right. Maybe he should’ve pushed a little harder and could’ve made me into the super agent he originally wanted. After all, when you start your career at six years old, what can one expect? George said in his note, that maybe I could put that part of my life behind me since I now knew about my childhood. I started to wonder. Maybe I could never do that. I hoped this intuitive feeling I was having, had nothing to do with me starting my old career again. What the hell did I want?
If I could find out who my father was that would be enough. I suppose it probably would have been fine for me to just start going through archives myself. But it was better to have Besnard do it. He knew all the ins and outs, and had all the contacts. I would just have to see what he could come up with.
I thought it would be interesting if my father had some family still living nephews, nieces, whatever. Who knows? Would I want to make a connection? Why not? I didn’t have anybody else in my life. There might even be some children who were relatives. I could practice being an uncle of some sorts. What a joke that would be. I would see what tomorrow brought. After all, as Scarlet would say, “Tomorrow’s a new day.” I hoped.
When I got back to Paris I called Besnard. He hadn’t come up with anything so far, only dead ends. I told him I was going to fly out tomorrow and I’d get back in touch with him and to just keep working on it. I wanted to go home before I got in trouble. Besides, it was weird being so close to Sophia and yet so far away. I wouldn’t want to see her, and have to explain to her that I’d lost Misha as well. I couldn’t handle sympathy from her.
The next day I was at the airport waiting for my flight to take off when a young man came up to me and said, “Are you Jack? My uncle wants you to call him.”
I said, “Who is your uncle?”
“Besnard. He wants to speak with you.”
“Jack. Oh good, I thought I had missed you. My nephew found you. I have some information for you. It just came in this morning.”
“What do you have Besnard?”
“Quite a lot actually, with some photos. Shall I send them to you?”
“No. I’m going to cancel my flight. Your nephew can bring me back. By the way, what does he look like?”
“Always being careful Jack. Well he’s very ugly.”
The young man was standing next to me by the phone. He heard me ask Besnard what he looked like. So I told him that his uncle said he was very ugly.
The young man said, “Tell my uncle he is an old fool.”
“Yes Jack that’s him for sure.”
When we got back to Besnard’s he told me to pull up a chair up to the desk. He spread out everything he had for me.
“Here is what I know about Edmond Duval. He was what is called fallen aristocracy, meaning that the family had once held the title of a Marquee. But over time they lost the family fortune. There was however, a Château outside of Paris they still owned before the war. By the end of World War I it had become quite rundown but was still livable. Apparently Duval did not have the funds to return it to its former greatness.
The Nazis took it over, then after the Normandy invasion there was some fighting in or around it, and it was abandoned by the family. Edmond was the oldest of three children. He married an American socialite in the mid-30s. They had one son who was actually conceived and born at the Château. Then when war broke out, Edmond went to fight like a good Frenchman should, and was killed doing his duty.”
“Where is he buried?”
“He is not. His body was never found. There was a barrage. A shell struck right where he was and several men died, but they never found his body. It was assumed there was nothing left. The French Army kept their records well enough, but after the Germans took over and then the American invasion, a lot of records were lost. Here is a copy of a photo of him.”
Besnard looked over the top of his glasses and said, “You have a slight resemblance to him, don’t you think?”
I just shrugged my shoulders, “What happened to the wife and child?”
“Don’t know. It was thought that that they went back to the States, but they could’ve just been killed. So far there is absolutely nothing on them. Now let’s see. His parents had both passed away before the war. He was survived by a younger brother and sister. Ah yes. He was born around 1895, or perhaps a little before. So he would’ve been in his 40s when he was married. Now this gets very interesting. The younger brother whose name was Pierre was old enough to serve in the army right before the defeat of France. He fled after the surrender with his younger sister. There is something about leaving with some Jews to Gibraltar by way of Spain, but I don’t understand it. Eventually he settled in Algeria. As you know, we call them Blackfeet. No connection to your Native Americans.”
“Yes I know the name.”
“Now when the French government decided to abandon their Frenchman in Algeria, and handed it back to the Algerians, many of the Blackfeet decided to rebel and go to war. They could not win without the support of France, which they did not have. The same I might add as what happened in Vietnam. So for the most part the French settlers lost everything they had, and now thousands and thousands of Algerians have settled in France. Anyway it seems that the younger brother took a wife and had a son, but at some point during the fighting, his wife was killed. He and his son became outlaws in France and would have been jailed or worse, had they been captured by the government. They were both listed as killed in action. So the sister returned to France and died a spinster of natural causes about 15 years ago. That’s all I have, except a copy of a photo of Edmond with the brother and sister when they were children.”
“You did a good job Besnard. I appreciate it.”
“Well, I aim to please Jack.”
“You always do. What about the graves of the brother and his son? Where are they buried?
“Sorry once again, nothing. Seems to be a family tradition. Probably just out in the desert somewhere. Are you thinking that perhaps they’re not dead? I had the same thought. But since the French government views them as criminals, they’d have to be in deep cover. Very unlikely they would want to be in France or the French possessions. Perhaps South America? I can keep working on that if you like.”
“And the sister, I suppose she’s not buried either.”
“Right. Cremated funeral taken care of by a neighbor. I have an address if you like. She’s an old woman as well. They must have been neighbors and friends for years. Now if you want to wait for little bit I will type everything out for you in a nice neat orderly fashion.”
“I think I may stick around for a few more days, so keep working on it, if you would. Also I’m feeling a little naked running around unarmed. What do you have for me?”
“What would you like?”
“Probably just a medium size 9 mm with a couple extra clips would do. Now tell me what do I owe you?”
�
��Later Jack, later.”
38
MONIQUE BOUCHARD
I had Besnard’s nephew drop me off in one section of town, grabbed a cab to another section, and then another one to the new hotel where I wanted to stay. Standard procedure. I decided I would go see the neighbor of my aunt. So the next morning I rented an expensive luxury vehicle and set off for the North of France. Once again, I would be going in cold. I didn’t even know if she would be there, but I thought it would be better than trying to talk to her on the phone first. I had to come up with a way to put her at ease talking to me. All I could come up with was the truth, or at least part of it. I wasn’t keen on letting her know too much about my past, when I didn’t even know everything I should know about myself. But who knows, maybe she could actually fill in some spaces and blanks. Also I hoped to find out more about my aunt and uncle. I knew it was a long shot at best. If I had relatives who were still alive, I wanted to find them. Besnard had warned me to be careful. I shouldn’t sound concerned about the money from selling the house, as she was the beneficiary. When I got to my destination, I thought I would cruise by and look before I presented myself. Her name was Monique Bouchard.
I had prepared some opening lines for her but when she came to the door. I said, “Are you Madame Bouchard? I was hoping to speak with you on a matter of grave importance to myself. My name is Johno Duval and I am the son of Edmond Duval. Pierre was my uncle and your good friend Françoise was my aunt.”
She put one hand to her mouth and steadied herself on the door jam with her other hand. I thought I might have to catch her if she fainted, but she was all right. I handed her the photo of them when they were children and the one of my father.
“Come in Monsieur Duval. Please do come in.”
This was going better than I could’ve hoped.
“I hope that you will be at ease talking with me. I know this is very sudden. I can show you my passport, but I must tell you that it’s in the name of my stepfather. They changed my first name to Jack.”
I told her that I had not seen my father since I was six years old. I remembered nothing of him.
“M. Duval, it is not necessary for me to see your passport. I knew your father since we were children. In fact, I knew your mother and your grandmother too. When your father was killed in the war, he was about the age that I judge you to be now. You are the spitting image of him.”
“Please Madame. Call me Johno.”
“Yes but only if you call me Monique. Feel free to ask any questions of me that you wish. I hope you will answer mine.”
“Then Monique, why don’t you start.”
“I suspect that your grandmother due to her age would not be with us anymore, but what about your mother?”
“I’m afraid that she passed away some years ago. Regrettably, my stepfather, who I always believed to be my real father passed away before her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Johno. I always really liked her. I was happy for Edmond when he married her. Your mother and grandmother were always a lot of fun to be with. We always joked that they were as much French as American. Then you must’ve grown up in America I think. Your French is good, but I detect an American accent.”
“Yes. From the time I was eight years old to my mid-20s I lived in the States.”
I told her about my accident and how I lost the memory of my first eight years growing up in the States, and up to the point when I returned to Europe.
“Tell me about my father’s death please.”
“Edmond was a thinker, an intellectual. When it became clear that war was imminent, Edmond begged your mother to take you and your grandmother and return to the States. She would not hear of it, nor would your grandmother. Edmond said please at least go to England. There was no question that your mother and grandmother loved the United States and their heritage, but France was where they lived. They loved France and all things French. Your mother indeed had never even been back to the United States since she was a child. She was not about to leave her husband and the country where she lived, because of the threat of war with Germany. The French as you probably know had been building the Maginot line for some time. It was thought by all there was no way that the Germans would be able to smash through it. Edmond and some of his friends where concerned that the French had not considered how warfare would be fought now. Did the generals think it would be similar to 1918 with trench warfare? This worried Edmond. When Edmund pressed the matter of his family leaving for the states or England, your mother acquiesced momentarily. She said she would consider going if her mother would go and he would join them as well. To this your father said if France went to war he would go to war.
“That was pretty much the end of discussions about leaving. They would have to wait and see what happened, what would come next.” Of course what came next was France and England declared war on Germany and then in 1940 the attack came on France. Your mother was proud of Edmond. She was angry at the war, and the Germans. How could they be starting another terrible war?
“When your father was killed Johno, your mother and grandmother tried to explain to you what the war meant, and what was happening. You were just too young to really understand the meaning of it all. When you were told that you were going back down to the South of France, you were happy, but you would miss all of us. You understood that you would not see your father again. This I think was the one thing really hard for you to grasp, but it helped you to understand more about what war really meant. You were only six years old.
“Your mother and grandmother knew they had work to do here in Paris. It would be safer for you in the South. That is why they sent you there. It was an act of bravado for your father to join the army and go to the front. He could have served France much better by using his mind instead of carrying a rifle. A large German shell exploded right where he was. There was nothing left. But I don’t know what happened to your mother, grandmother, and you after that.”
“My mother and grandmother worked with the resistance. I accidentally became part of the resistance myself for the next three years. I did things a child should not have experienced. When I was eight, Mother and grandmother and I were smuggled to England and then back to the States.”
“Your mother and grandmother were very brave to stay on. Do you know about the Château? Before the war we all had many wonderful times there. Did you know that I often took care of you? You were a very cute little boy.”
“Monique, please tell me about my uncle Pierre.”
“Ah, Pierre was a magnificent man. We were in love by the time we became teenagers. You’re aunt and I we were the best of friends from childhood to the day she passed away. After the surrender, Pierre who was also in the army laid down his weapons and went home as many French soldiers did. However he would not stay in a France that was occupied by the Germans. He said he was leaving to go to Algeria. He had Jewish friends whom he had helped to leave France, and they in turn were helping him to go to Algeria. He begged me to come with him. It frightened me to think of being in Algeria. I could just not bring myself to go. He took Françoise with him and they left. You were all gone now. I was alone. I always regretted not going, but then it was not a happy ending in Algeria. Later my Françoise was returned to me. Soon she was taken from me again before her time should have ended. After the defeat of Germany I would have gone to be with Pierre, but by then he had already married a woman and had a son.
“Your aunt and I always continued to write and stay in touch. Things went well for them for some time, then, when the government decided to abandon their French sons and their families, they would not go quietly, and they went to war. Pierre was a man of honor though, but when his wife and his sister’s fiancé were brutally murdered, he and his son developed their own brand of brutality. With money that I inherited from my family, I bought this small house. When your Aunt came back to France, it was natural that she would come and stay with me. The house next door that you see was for sale, and she bought i
t. So once again we were together. By the time the fight was completely lost, Pierre and his son had become criminals to the French government. So in the end they faked their deaths, in order to live. We would hear from them now and then. The years that your aunt and I had together were good. Once again we became as close as we were before the war. When she passed away she left her house to me. I can show you the will.”
“Monique that’s not necessary. I’m glad that you were always there for her.”
“Yes, I loved her. And she loved me.”
“I understand Monique.”
“Thank you Johno for being so understanding.”
“I contacted Pierre about his sister’s death. Actually, after I sold the house I sent him most of the money. I didn’t need it. I don’t need much, and I thought he and his son would have more use for it. That was the last time that I contacted them, almost 15 years ago. They left for Cape Town and I never heard from them again.”
I ended up staying two more days. We talked about everything one could imagine. I didn’t, however, mention my time with George. I didn’t feel it was necessary.
I was growing very fond of the old girl, and on the third day I asked her if I could think of her as my own aunt. She seemed very pleased with this.
She said, “To think that I was there when you were born. Now after all these years I can be like an aunt to you. It’s wonderful.”
On the third day, our conversation came around to places where she had never traveled. She said she had never really thought of herself as much of a traveler.
“Isn’t there any place that you always wanted to see?” I asked.
“I always thought it would be nice to go on one of those cruise ships to Tahiti and the other islands. A young girl’s fantasy I suppose.”
I thought for a moment and then said, “Well auntie you’re about to find out one thing about me. When I get a notion in my head, I make it happen.”
The next few days I set about organizing an all-expense paid, first-class trip on a cruise ship to Tahiti. She didn’t have a passport, so I got Besnard involved. With his connections and my money, we had one in no time.